“Zac, what do your parents do?" I asked, casually making conversation as we walked to class. Secretly, I really needed to know what he knew about his father.
“Well, my mother is an interior designer here in town, and my father is an architect in Washington D.C.," Zac said, the faraway look returning.
So, he knew nothing. Dr. Abbott probably wanted to keep his son in the dark as much as possible. I guess Abbott thought that what his son didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Fat chance. We talked animatedly as we walked to class. Zac was very easy to talk to. Then, my thoughts traveled to what he said when he came late to class. I forced myself from his mesmerizing eyes to focus on my mission.
“What did you say when you came into class late this morning?" I asked Zac innocently as we walked.
